


Blood & Sugar

by killingsaray



Series: Tattoo My Mind & Pierce My Heart [2]
Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: F/F, Genital Piercing, Maca is depressed, Nipple Piercings, References to Depression, Soulmates, Zulema is understanding, deep talks, does this count as domestic!zurena?, piercing kink, tattoo artist - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29332980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingsaray/pseuds/killingsaray
Summary: "Zulema nods her head towards the back of the shop and Maca follows her through to Zulema’s workstation.“What sin are we looking to absolve ourselves of today, Miss Ferreiro?” Zulema asks as she sits on her stool in front of Maca.“What’s that supposed to mean?”ORCompanion piece to 'Ink & Honey'. Set two months after they meet.
Relationships: Estefanía "Rizos" Kabila/Saray Vargas, Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir
Series: Tattoo My Mind & Pierce My Heart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154522
Comments: 18
Kudos: 83





	Blood & Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> the overall message of this piece is to remind you guys that your darkest hour does not define you. what defines you is your willingness to keep going. you got this! I believe in you. 🤍

* * *

_"No matter how piercing or appalling his insights, the desolation creeping over his outer world, the lurid lights and shadows of his inner world, the writer must live with hope, and work in faith."_

_-J. B. Priestley_

* * *

Zulema stretches her tattooed arm to reach the, now lukewarm, tea on her bedside table. She can’t move anymore because of the topless blonde currently straddling her ass and massaging her naked back and neck. 

Macarena presses the heel of her hand against the dip where Zulema’s back meets her ass and follows the red-inked phoenix, from tail to beak, up Zulema’s spine and then used both hands to spread the pressure from the bird’s chest to its outstretched wings and Zulema exhales. 

“Feel good?”

Zulema hums her approval and maneuvers her neck so she can sip from the herbal tea. 

She sighs contentedly. 

It’s made perfectly. 

Drinkable temperature. One teaspoon of sugar. 

Not too bitter. Not too sweet. 

It’s a metaphor for Zulema’s life, Maca has come to realize. The universe has dropped her into the brunette’s life like it knows she needs a splash of goodness into a life that’s been otherwise acrid. 

Because when they first started dating, Zulema never used any sugar at all. Willing to accept whatever taste swirled inside of her mug of life. 

Macarena smiles. She’s happy that Zulema is content because Maca could spend hours running her fingers along every single one of Zulema’s tattoos. She could spend days kissing each one, starting with the scorpion on her neck and working her way down until she reached the blank spaces between Zulema’s sternum tattoo and the Arabic script on either of her hips. 

“I want you to do something new to my body.”

Zulema turns her head to the side, eyes the blonde. “That thing I did with my thumb ten minutes ago was pretty new,  _ rubia _ .”

“ _ Oye _ !” Maca tugs at Zulema’s hair, playfully, before pointing at her in a warning. “I meant like some new body art.”

Zulema sets her tea back down on the nightstand and picks up her phone instead. “Something like this?” She shows Maca a photograph of her most recent sketch. It’s an intricate web of female characters who are largely considered villains in pop culture with the  _ Alice in Wonderland _ quote “we’re all mad here” dancing almost whimsically between Maleficent and Harley Quinn. 

“Zule, that’s breathtaking,” admits Maca. And it is. But it isn’t what she wants. “I can’t pull that off though.”

Zulema swipes to the next sketch and another. And Macarena is  _ sweet _ in her declarations that while Zulema is undeniably talented, she wants something else. 

Zulema finally turns in bed, Maca lifts just enough to allow it, and then settles back down. 

“Tell me what you want,” Zulema husks, dropping her phone onto the bed to be lost amongst the sheets. 

Maca shrugs a single shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe a piercing?”

Zulema grins. “I can see you with a tragus. Maybe two more lobe holes. A dermal piercing in your chest.” As she speaks, Zulema reaches up and touches the places she mentions. 

“Which piercings hurt the most?” Maca asks. 

Zulema’s brows furrow. It’s a strange question. “Genitals, nipples, surface piercings.”

Maca is quiet for a moment. Contemplative. And Zulema can see the gears churning away inside of her head.

“Okay,” she says with finality. 

“Okay, what?”

“I want them all.”

She leans down and kisses Zulema before she can ask any questions. And as Maca trails lazy kisses down the brunette’s body, Zulema doesn’t give it another thought. 

At least not until the following week when Macarena is lying topless on her piercing table and Zulema is asking her once more if she’s sure about this. 

“Yes,” Maca reaffirms. Zulema’s gloved hands pinch Maca’s sterilized nipples the way she likes in bed. The blonde’s body responds just as Zulema knows it will. 

When Zulema slips the needle through her skin, a tear falls from Macarena’s left eye. 

“Fuck,” she groans through gritted teeth and Zulema raises a brow. 

“You good?” She asks. 

Maca nods and wipes the tear away as Zulema glides the titanium jewelry through. 

One down. One to go. 

They’ve only been dating for a few weeks. Two months tops and Macarena should know better than to lie to Zulema. Especially because when they first met, Zulema seemed to be the only one who could understand exactly what Macarena was going through. Zulema’s seen things and experienced even more. She doesn’t pry, but she encourages Macarena all the same. 

This time, though, Maca feels like Zulema is the one person who can’t understand what she’s feeling right now. And that’s part of the problem.

So, she bites down on her bottom lip and allows Zulema to push another piercing needle through her left nipple. Up until a couple of months ago, Maca hadn’t had so much as her ears pierced. Now, she has a tattoo on the back of her neck and is getting her nipples pierced by the stunning older woman that she’s dating.

* * *

Maca slips through the front door of Blood & Ink, the bell alerting Saray to her presence. The brunette lifts her head from the sketchbook in front of her, glances once at Maca, and then goes back to her sketch. 

“ _ Oye _ , Zule, your girlfriend is here.”

Maca leans over the counter, kisses the  _ gitana _ ’s cheek, teasingly murmuring, “Rizos says hi.”

“Yeah?” Saray pretends not to care, “Funny since she hasn’t responded to my texts.”

Maca grins. “Might have something to do with you saying I love you when you fuck her but not in the light of day.”

Saray’s pencil slips and she looks up at Maca, pointing at her accusingly, but before she can protest, Zulema appears from the back of the shop. 

Maca’s eyes flicker up and she smiles her most dazzling smile at Zulema, who cocks a brow, knowingly. 

“Are you annoying Saray?”

“Yes!” Saray answers for her then childishly sticks her tongue out at Maca. 

“No, I’m here for my appointment,” 

Zulema nods her head towards the back of the shop and Maca follows her through to Zulema’s workstation. 

“What sin are we looking to absolve ourselves of today, Miss Ferreiro?” Zulema asks as she sits on her stool in front of Maca. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Zulema scoffs lightly. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Getting painful piercings to make yourself feel better about something that’s not going right in your life?”

“Wha—?”

“I was born at night, but I wasn’t born  _ last _ night,” Zulema says and stares at Macarena. “So, talk to me.”

There’s not much to say really. Macarena just feels… stuck. Like she should be further along in her life and her career than she. She feels like she’s letting her late parents down in some way. 

Maca’s final promise to their parents before their sudden deaths was that she would be the best she could be and take care of her brother. 

And she’s broken that promise. 

Or at least she feels that way. 

Her brother is off with his new fiancée, Lidia, and her kid, traveling and enjoying his life to the fullest. And perhaps that’s part of the problem; they haven’t connected the way they used to in so long. The distance is there, physically and emotionally. She looks at her friends with their marriages and kids and homes on the outskirts of the city with the white picket fences. Two cars in the garage. 

Then she looks at what she’s accomplished in the last six months since their death. 

“I’m failing my parents and I’m failing myself.”

“And you think forcing me to inflict pain on you is a good punishment?” Zulema asks, slipping on her black gloves.

Macarena shrugs. 

“If it’s really what you want, you know I won’t deny you this, but I just want you to know that it’s not going to solve your problems. It’s like taking drugs. The high may feel good, but the second it’s over, guess what? Your problems are still there. You have to decide what you want.” Zulema shrugs. She can only speak her mind. She can’t make Maca’s decisions for her. 

Zule doesn’t say anything else about Maca’s choices because Zulema is a firm believer in the idea that people make their own destiny. All she can do is silently be there for the blonde in hopes that she’ll realize that she is greater than her current struggle.

Maca wants her clit pierced this time. Zulema doesn’t protest. Any chance to get Maca naked, she’ll take. Unlike her with her nipple piercings, there’s a little blood this time around. The cleaning process isn’t the most comfortable, but Zulema is as gentle as she can be, coaxing Macarena through it. 

“You did so well,” she tells Maca.

* * *

Zulema is shit at punishing Macarena. She gives her the piercings that she asks for and then once they’re healed, she uses them to bring her pleasure like she’s never known. The moment Maca’s clitoral piercing is healed —and Zulema’s been checking frequently— the brunette spreads Macarena wide and smacks Maca’s clit softly with just her fingertips. Maca spasms instantly, and cream spills out onto the bedspread. 

But it’s nothing compared to when Zulema’s tongue touches her clit for the first time in almost two months. Her entire body bows forwards and she doesn’t last longer than seven minutes. Especially not when Zulema’s thumbs stroke back and forth over her pierced nipples at the same time. 

Without saying a word, Zulema is forcing Maca to rethink her piercing approach. She’s silently reminding Macarena that she deserves to feel good despite whatever she’s going through. 

And Maca is grateful. Maybe Zulema has an inkling of what she’s going through after all. She  _ did _ come from a checkered background with an abusive upbringing. Maca doesn’t have all of the details, but what she knows is enough. And despite it all, Zulema is a successful tattoo artist with her own shop. 

“I want to be a personal trainer,” Maca says abruptly at breakfast one more. She’s been spending more and more time at Zulema’s flat lately. And taking mental notes. The woman does so much and Maca is surprised to see just how much work goes into owning her own business. 

Zulema is her inspiration. 

Zulema swallows the french toast Maca made and looks up from the payroll spreadsheet on her laptop. “So, become a personal trainer,  _ bebecita _ . If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

Maca nods and pops a blueberry into her mouth. Zulema turns back to her computer. The blonde had no idea where to start. 

When she returns to Zulema’s for dinner, there is a packet of papers sitting on the countertop. There’s a bright orange post-it note on top with her name on it. 

“What’s this?” Maca asks. 

Zulema glances up from the curry she’s making and then turns back to it. “Only one way to find out.”

Inside is a starter kit for becoming a personal trainer. Papers on how to get her licenses and certifications, trainers in the greater Madrid area that offer the courses to complete the mandatory hours necessary to become a trainer, and so much more. There were small stars on the ones that Zulema thought were the best ones and she’d even written little anecdotes about the trainers’ specialties.

“Zulema,” Maca breathed in disbelief, a huge smile on her face.

“I had some downtime in between clients,” Zulema said, nonchalantly. “Don’t make it a thing.” 

It is a thing. It’s a huge thing. 

Huge enough that Maca drops to her knees and eats Zulema out, right there in the kitchen with dinner simmering on the stove. 

* * *

In the three months that follow, Maca feels like things are falling into place. She’s feeling accomplished and healthy and happier than she’s been in a while. Zulema notices the difference in her. Tells her often how proud she is. Even drops one of Maca’s business cards in with the care kit she gives to her clients. 

Rizos is Maca’s first client, of course, Zulema signs up for a year-long membership. Saray does as well. 

Eventually, Maca decides that her specialty will be kickboxing and self-defense. A local boxing gym hires her and Saray and Zulema come to a couple of classes a week, to show their support. Really they just sit in the back of the class, judging the effectiveness of various brands of sports bras as the women jump and kick and punch. 

But they’re there. 

And that’s what matters most to Maca. It dawns on her as they sit in a restaurant after a Friday night class that she’s creating her own family now. They’re loud and hysterical and  _ dramatic _ and hopeful and supportive all at once. Most importantly, they’re hers. 

She looks from Saray to Rizos to Luna and Yolanda, the girls she’s met teaching classes to Zulema. 

_ Zulema _ . 

From the moment Maca met her, it felt like she’d known Zulema forever. Like they were kindred spirits, bound to find one another if only so they felt understood and less alone. 

“ _ Que pasa, rubía _ ?” Zulema asks, only loud enough for Maca to hear. 

“Do you believe in soul mates?” Maca wonders. Zulema pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, squints a little, trying to figure out where this conversation is going. 

“I can’t say. I don’t know much about the concept. But I don’t rule anything out.”

“Neither do I.”

Zulema asks her to move in that night. 

Not so much asks, as she tells Maca that she’s getting the closet extended next week so the blonde can start bringing her clothes over little by little. 

It’s in the same fashion that Maca found out she was Zulema’s girlfriend a few months prior. 

_ The brunette was on the phone ordering supplies for her shop and was unavailable for the delivery date. So Maca volunteered to be there for it.  _

_ “Never mind, Tuesday is fine. My girlfriend will be there to sign for the shipment.” _

Two weeks later, Maca is officially moved in. 

A day later, Zulema casually drops the ‘L’ word when Maca heads to bed before her. 

It’s not a surprise. They’ve both been feeling it for a while now, but Maca and Zule’s love languages are physical touch and acts of service, respectfully. 

Still, it’s nice to hear. 

Maca doesn’t go to bed on time. They make love for the first time on the living room floor, whispering ‘I love you’ in between each orgasm.

* * *

Their first anniversary is on Valentine’s Day. Ironic because they both loathe the idea of one day dedicated to showing love to one another. 

They do it every day. 

“Do you want to get married?” Maca asks, dropping two Splenda into Zulema’s tea. It’s a generalized question, just wondering where Zulema’s head is. She doesn’t mind spending the rest of her life with Zulema without a piece of paper telling them that they’re meant to be. She already knows that they are. 

Zulema takes the steaming cup from her and hands her a slice of avocado toast. “I can’t tonight. I’ll be at the shop late.”

Maca thinks she’s kidding, so she plays along. “I have a client to train around 7:30, so tonight’s no good for me either.”

Zulema sips her tea. “What about next Sunday?”

The blonde is beginning to think Zulema isn’t joking.

Zulema pulls something out of her pocket and slides it across the counter to Maca. 

It’s a ring box.

So they are on the same page. 

She looks at the box and then at Zulema. Bites into her avocado toast. 

“I’m free next Sunday,” she tells Zulema. 

The ring is beautiful. But so traditional. Maca decides she will wear it for the ceremony and special events, but she wants something different with Zulema. 

So they get one another’s initials tattooed on their ring fingers, letters separated by a tiny dermal stud. 

The small, numbing pain that accompanies the beautiful tattoo-piercing combination reminds Maca that the most beautiful things can come from a painful place. If she had not gone through those few months where she didn’t know who she was or what she was doing, Maca isn’t sure she would be where she is now. She’s not certain that she would be able to  _ truly _ appreciate how beautiful the life she’s made for herself and with Zulema.

The following Sunday comes quickly. Saray marries them on the beach in Ibiza, with the powers vested in her by the Crown of Spain, and an online certification she earned two days prior. Rizos, Róman, Lidia, and a beach full of strangers are their only witnesses. 

Seeing how far they’ve come in a year brings Zulema back to their first meeting in her tattoo parlor. 

“You told me that what you wanted is peace,” Zulema says. They’re lounging in a cabana, watching the setting sun. “Have you finally attained it?”

Maca inhales deeply. Exhales, slowly. She answers with the truth she now walks in. 

“I attained it the moment I met you. That day, you tattooed my mind with hope and pierced my soul with love, Zulema. I feel peace every day I wake up and go to sleep with you next to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> there will eventually be one final story in this series to wrap it up.


End file.
